Apron Wars
by Rieka De-Volka
Summary: Short drabble. Ryou and Bakura adjust to their relationship, in more ways than one. Not what the tittle might imply.


**Title:** Apron Wars.

**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh (Manga)... Which I don't own.

**Characters:** Ryou, Bakura.

**Rating:** PG-13.

**Gerne:** Humor.

**Notes:** Because I had a whim for Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, specially after finishing the Orsus series. And because the thought of Bakura in a white apron made me hysterical.

**_Originally a drabble I had made for my daily writing challenge in LJ, but I thought I'd share the fun._**

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Apron Wars.

After the Memory Trial, while everyone went on to celebrate, only Ryou had remained, waiting patiently for Bakura to come out of the ruins. Yugi and the others were sure the Spirit of the Ring had been defeated, that he had been sealed away, but Ryou knew better, so he had waited. Eventually, Bakura had indeed come out of the smoking ruins, tired and covered in grime, but alive and inhabiting his own body. In an awkward moment, he stared blankly at Ryou, expecting him to yell or be angry, but the white haired teen had merely shrugged and asked him to go home. Bakura had found it odd that he had complied that easily, and that the word home didn't carry a bitter undertone in it. So he stayed with Ryou. It was tense, but slowly, very, very slowly, they ironed out the kinks in their relationship, from the mundane - who cooked and when - to the vital - whose room they were going to sleep in - and all was well.

Until she showed up.

Ryou's father hadn't been exactly pleased with the news of his son's relationship, particularly after he caught a glimpse of the man in question. No, he hadn't liked Bakura, with him towering two feet over Ryou, his bronze skin and his scarred face. He hadn't liked it, but he didn't say anything, because above everything else, Ryou was happy and that had been enough.

She'd complained. Loudly.

Ryou's mother had had a sister once. But said sister had made her bags and went away when he was still too small to remember her. She sent a gift and a card dutifully every Christmas as well as on his birthday, but he never thought she would storm into his apartment one day, point accusingly at a bewildered Bakura, and accuse him of corrupting her favorite - and only - nephew. Ryou's aunt's visit had been disturbing and mercifully short, but it had shaken a few loose ends in their relationship. Mainly, Bakura needed something to do. Preferably, something legal and which didn't involved killing and/or maiming others.

Malik took pity on the pair and offered Bakura a job in the same restaurant he worked at. Bakura grudgingly accepted the idea, though he sulked for a month straight about having to wear the silly white apron while he took orders. Eventually they adjusted again, Bakura stopped glaring at the costumers and his tips got more juicy. He even stopped complaining about the white apron on a daily basis, merely sulking about on Sunday's and Holidays.

Ryou's aunt returned again.

She ranted and growled and made a racket about the most mundane details in the apartment, until she noticed a certain lack of tall Egyptian in it. Ryou smiled and didn't even bother to try and stop her from her renewed rant, this time congratulating him for getting rid of _'that brute of a demon'_. As Ryou helped her sit down, he glanced at the blond in the casher, receiving a smirk in return from the amused Malik.

**BANG.**

_"What's the meaning of this?"_ Poor dear aunt screeched loudly as a plate of appetizers had been set rudely before her, turning to face their waiter with a glare... and bleached.

"War, _ma'am_," Bakura smiled nastily as he clicked his pen and took out his notepad, "Can I get you a drink?"

Ryou laughed for hours on end as did the other patrons of the restaurant, now familiar with the brusqueness of their waiter, and watched with unmasked amusement as the lanky woman all but fled the building, clearly not intending to return in the near future.

"Does that mean I get no tip?" The former evil spirit called out almost innocently, smirking widely as his Hikari smacked him gently.

"You're _insufferable_," Sitting back with a sigh, the younger albino shook his head.

"Mhm, my work here is done," Bakura turned on his heels and stalked towards the kitchen, _"Ishtar! Where the hell's my order for table two?"_

His aunt would be back, Ryou was sure, but at least he was convinced Bakura knew how to win his wars. Even if he complained about the silly white apron something awful.

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_(A/N) REVIEW!_


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